The Week of the Keek

So this school teaching thing is finally starting to come together. I actually taught health twice this week again. It was great. I did my love lesson, and I did my dental lesson. The kids seemed to dig it, there was just one slight problem: the keek.

I was teaching a class of first graders about love. We were in the middle of talking about who we loved and each of the kids was telling me one thing or person that they loved while I handed out paper for them to make valentines with. Here’s how it went: (except in Turkmen, not English)

Me: (while holding a big stack of drawing paper) Oh, that’s great, you love your cow, and how about you? Who do you love? Your car? That’s nice, I love my car too, are you going to make a valentine for it?

Them: I love flowers, I love my mom, I love Britney Spears, I love bananas, I lo… KEEK!

Me: Keek?! What’s a keek?

Them: (pointing frantically behind me, in an upward direction) KEEK, KEEK! That’s a KEEEEEEK!

Me: (looking behind me and seeing a little brown bird that was flying around the classroom trying to get out) Oh, you mean a bird. That’s not scary. Stop yelling.

Them: That is NOT a bird, it’s a keek!

Me: (looking closer and realizing it’s a BAT, not a bird) (in English now) Oh my god oh my god oh my god, IT’S A BAT!!! AAAAaaaaahhhh!

I spent the next ten minutes hiding under my pile of papers, crouched in a corner screaming while another teacher tried to chase the vampire, er, I mean bat, out of the classroom with a broom. I’d never seen a bat before in real life, and I was convinced I was going to get rabies just by being in the same room as him. Every time he tried to escape the broom and dove closer to me, I let out an especially high pitched wail. I was terrified. An excellent role model…

The bat was finally.. um, dealt with… (you don’t want details, trust me) and I tried to continue our lesson, but it wasn’t going to happen. Every few minutes, one of the kids would point behind me and scream KEEK!! really loud, and I would look appropriately petrified as they all dissolved into giggles at my cowardice. Shut up, it wasn’t funny… I really was in fear for my life!

Our family finally got the cell phone on Tuesday. That was a happy happy day. You can all call me on it now (if you feel like trying to call Turkmenistan). I would love to hear from you! I will give the number for it to my (American) parents, so if you want to try getting ahold of me via phone, feel free to hit them up for my contact information.

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful. Bagila got a cell phone too, so we can call each other now (yay!) and Bagila wants me to make some posters for our clinic’s hallway about anemia. I’m just excited to be doing stuff. I also met with the other health volunteers again, and the four of us are going to do a health day camp in Gahmya’s village later this month.

There was a big bayram this week (do you remember what bayram means?). It was called Ayal Bayram. Ayal is the word for woman, so it was kind of like a day to celebrate femininity. It was similar to our Mother’s Day, but instead of just celebrating mothers, we celebrated EVERY woman in Turkmenistan. Quite the event. It’s customary to buy little gifts and give them to the important women in your life, a way to let them know you think they’re special. I bought all of the nurses at my clinic, as well as Bagila flowers, and I bought fabric for new dresses for Rayhan and Shukerjan. They all liked their gifts, and I was just stoked for a chance to shop in the bazaar. I love the bazaar… all the cool stuff, all the haggling, all the people, all the colors… ahhhh. Anyways, I’m digressing.

To celebrate the bayram (since it was totally a day off from work), I was sitting at home reading a book, when Akmet (host dad) came in and told me there was someone at the door for me. I was a little confused at the expression on his face, because normally he would tell me exactly who was at the door, and to be honest, I couldn’t really think of a time anyone had come to the door specifically for me. I jumped up to solve the mystery of the door and to my surprise got to it only to not recognize the man standing there at all. He was an older man, maybe in his late fifties, and he was holding a bouquet of roses (real ones!) for me. After a rapid exchange in Turkmen between him and my host family members, he wished me a happy woman holiday, handed me the flowers, and left. I absolutely confused. Flowers are expensive in Turkmenistan and I had no idea why this absolute stranger would have stopped by to give them to me specifically. After talking to my host family, they told me he had driven a taxi for me once, thought I was really friendly, and had remembered where I live, so he brought me holiday flowers. Hmm. I think I was flattered… I think. Meanwhile my family told me to be less chatty in taxis in the future. Oops.